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Vilax Galanardal
The Galanardals What started out as a small family of High Elfs, quickly grew into one of the richest families within the region of Argerhills. They quickly rose through their ranks with their mastery of enchanting and potion creation. Of course, very quickly they realised that they stood out due to not only their name, but their extreme level of skills in their arts. Due to this, the earliest members of the Galanardals changed their name to make try and make them "blend in with human society" and drew back into some of the deeper woods on the continent. With that, the elven line of Highbridge finally came to be. His Childhood To Vorock and Lailin, Vilax's birth was both a shock and a slight joy. Thinking that she was no longer able to bare children, to be given another child was a blessing. He was of course the middle out of 5 children, a younger brother and sister following in his wake. As a baby, he would often be caught crying if he was left alone for too long. He would also found playing with his innate magic ability, unlike his siblings. Often his parents would watch with pride as this young child could make albeit minor illusions with little effort on his behalf. But as he grew older, this changed. His Adolescence Growing up, that touch of magic seemed to almost fade from Vilax, as if he rejected that magic its self. And to a degree, he did. His father was constantly comparing him to his elder siblings, complaining on how his progress was slowing with each day. Eventually it just seemed like his mind shifted from this to the way of the shadow, the way of a Rouge. The moment his hands first gripped a dagger, his mind felt at ease. Unlike the rest of his siblings, weapons training was his favourite part of his teaching. Rapiers, daggers and bows. All of these seemed to almost call to his hands, responding with precision the moment he called back. This angered his father to end, and worried his mother to death. This was not the path of a trader, or even of a proud elven man. This was the path of a robber, or even worse, a killer. In an attempt to get him out of this line of behaviour, he was taken out on a trading mission to expand the family's business options. As he was lifted into the cart with his sister, his mother and father taking positions in the cart in front of them, Vilax did not know that he would never see his home again. The Fall Not everyone had forgotten the Highbridge's past, the power, money and influence that their older generations had created for the newer ones. Along their way to the capital of Argerhills, there was a smaller town by the name of Luxindale. The people there had been planning for a day when they finally left the safety of their estate, and to finally get revenge on the elves that had ruined the trade of their ancestors so long ago now. And so they struck when they had camped for the night. Drugged their guards, and struck down the Highbridge family that had travelled there. The young Vilax, waking up from his sleepy state, walked out for some water and found blood and flame to greet him. With no chance to fight back for himself, a blade cut along his eye and then sunk into his abdomen. In that moment, Vilax met death for the first time in his life, and this would not be the last. Re-birth His eyes opened to pain all over his body. Not really understand the circumstances he had awoken in, until he reached down to the weight on his lower body. His little sister, dying as she sent the last of her energy through to him through divine magic. She had always been on the path to becoming an incredible cleric, but had wasted it all on him. Anger. Fear. Pain. Hate. All of this was all he had left as she breathed her final breath ontop of his form, instantly standing up and moving away from her. There was nothing left for him to go back to, he could not even remember how to get back home. He was well and truly alone for the first time in his life. This just left him